the hippy hippy shake

I think this is my new favorite euphemism.

That's an issue that's always cracked me up when I've read, say, torch's fic. Or certain published works of Clive Barker. I mean, I'm anything but prudish and have been known to let the spirit move me on pretty short notice and in less-than-ideal circumstances, but generally a mild fever is enough to knock me out of commission. I can't imagine anyone being able to perform a couple days after defibrillation, or with a wound bad enough to require help just walking or standing.

Don't appreciate a good tractor.

Chainsaws! Or a runaway horse.

I can't imagine anyone being able to perform a couple days after defibrillation, or with a wound bad enough to require help just walking or standing.

And it's never just enthusiastic snogging, which one might be able to manage, it's all-out hanging from the chandeliers.

it's all-out hanging from the chandeliers.

They could at least pull a stitch.

I can't imagine anyone being able to perform a couple days after defibrillation, or with a wound bad enough to require help just walking or standing.

But it's how he knows he's alive again!!`~

How do you expect your (handsome, dashing male) protagonist to truly FEEL ALIVE if they don't do the hippy hippy shake?! Come on, now, people--be reasonable! Hippy hippy shake is its own medicine! Along with the Healing Penis of Comforting Love (TM, available in three sizes) and the Strong Arms of Protection (subject to bicep-width warranty) and ending finally in the Cuddle of Warm Fuzzies. These three combined will clear any rape-related trauma, defibrillator-induced chest pain, or returning-from-the-dead aches and pains!

Sometimes, a hot cup of soup and one of those microwave comfort-pillow thingies is just a hot cup of soup and a decrease in backache.

Or, like, retching. "No, babe, don't take it personally. It's not your body, it's percocet."

But it's how he knows he's alive again!!`~

How do you expect your (handsome, dashing male) protagonist to truly FEEL ALIVE if they don't do the hippy hippy shake?! Come on, now, people--be reasonable! Hippy hippy shake is its own medicine! Along with the Healing Penis of Comforting Love (TM, available in three sizes) and the Strong Arms of Protection (subject to bicep-width warranty) and ending finally in the Cuddle of Warm Fuzzies. These three combined will clear any rape-related trauma, defibrillator-induced chest pain, or returning-from-the-dead aches and pains!

Oh god, you people are dangerous for those of us (meaning me) who are suffering with the allergies and asthma... you've got me wheezing due to laughter on this end. There are way, way too many fics showing up right now where DeanandSam barely wait for Bobby and Ellen to drive away from that deserted cowboy cemetery before throwing the other one up against the Impala and performing the hippy hippy shake. Right then and there, so as to convince himself/the other that they are Alive and O.K.. Never mind that Sam was recently resurrected, and has a wound in his back that still hurts a bit. Or that Dean just got tossed noggin first into a headstone, and must have at the very least a concussion. That there's all kinds of emotional trauma, ranging from seeing Dad and finally killing the demon to learning about Dean's deal. Or knowing that an army of demons is now on the loose. Let's just.... do the hippy hippy shake, right here, right now.

Not to mention, you know, the incest.